


loneliness ain't killing me no more

by yuchi



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: 99 line-centric, Alternate Universe - Grocery Store, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, M/M, idiots to lovers, now that's a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:15:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25059832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuchi/pseuds/yuchi
Summary: The plan is simple: pretend to date Kunhang, get a 300k won bonus, go to med school, and live happily ever after. Right?... Right?
Relationships: Mark Lee/Wong Kun Hang | Hendery
Comments: 61
Kudos: 236





	loneliness ain't killing me no more

**Author's Note:**

> i have not worked in retail so forgive me for any inaccuracies! also im using won as currency but the setting is... yeah don't think about it too much just like i did haha :)
> 
> thank you to the oomfies that helped me with some of the scenarios!! your ideas were great!!
> 
> also this is horrifically unbetaed. we die like men
> 
> title is from stronger by britney spears, the true protagonist of this fic

"Motherfucker."

The expletive echoes sadly around Mark's apartment. Well, not _his_ apartment, per se; it's his uncle's, and he was gracious enough to lend it to Mark while he gallivants around the Bahamas or something. Mark is lucky to be living here for free, but with the situation right now, he's finding it difficult to be thankful for anything.

He mashes the enter key, as though the numbers in front of him will change—but to no avail. The large cell on his spreadsheet indicating his total finances for next year is still a bright, insulting red.

"Mother- _fucker,"_ Mark repeats, with feeling. He groans as loudly and lengthily as his lungs will allow, forehead meeting the cheap plastic of his fold-up desk once he's out of breath. A whole summer of working, and it's still not enough for his first year of med school.

"Fuck tertiary education," Mark grumbles to himself, closing the spreadsheet in frustration. "Fuck med school. Fuck being a doctor."

The rant goes on for much longer than that, but even he himself knows it's half-hearted. There's nothing more Mark wants than to become a doctor. Ever since he'd borrowed his mom's stethoscope and listened to the soft _lub-dub, lub-dub_ of his little five year old heart, his life has been dedicated to one goal and one goal only.

It's why he spent four years of his life on five hours of sleep every day just to get the perfect GPA. It's why when his parents told him that they could only pay for his tuition and nothing else, he grinded even harder, scouring the internet for scholarships and giving up his weekends to a part-time job at the supermarket downtown.

Ever since he became a clerk a year ago, his Sundays have been hell, spent refilling displays and directing frustrated parents to wherever the pet food section was. Thankfully, he's been moved to weekday shifts for the summer—still a little bit hectic, but far more calm than the weekends. It paid well, and the sob story of being a working student had worked well in his favor when he was being interviewed for med school. He has no regrets taking the job.

Except maybe now that he's still 130,000 won short for the next school year.

"Fuck fuck fuck," he finishes, scrubbing a hand over his face.

Sighing, he tips his feet off the bed to get ready for work. It's hot enough that he goes for shorts and a plain shirt after his shower, quickly gathering up his things into his backpack and heading out of the apartment.

The near-empty train calms his nerves down considerably, and paired with his commute playlist, he almost forgets about his impending bankruptcy—but as soon as he steps onto his train stop, the dread comes rushing back like a truck on a freeway, making his stomach churn as he takes the short walk to the supermarket.

It's five minutes to eight when he arrives at SM Mart, running as quickly as he can across the asphalt of the parking lot that's reflecting heat as much as it's absorbing it. Thankfully, no one pays him much mind when he clocks in, and as soon as he changes into his uniform, he drags himself down to the walk-in freezer so he can start filling the—well, smaller freezers.

There's no one else in the frozen food section save for someone grilling meat samplers at a booth. Doom and gloom momentarily forgotten, Mark grins and makes a beeline for the smell of pork, arms weighed down with bacon.

"Mark Lee, you better put that bacon where it belongs before you even think of slacking off," Dejun scolds, waving his tongs around in warning.

"Jeez, what a buzzkill," Mark pouts, but he's smiling when he shoves the packets of bacon into their appropriate receptacles.

If he had to choose his closest friend at work, it would be Dejun. They were in the same year at college, but never met on campus until Mark became a clerk in the grocery department where they both worked. Dejun and his boyfriend, Yukhei, were the ones to show him the ropes in the supermarket, and Mark has had a soft spot for the two ever since.

He turns to approach the boy behind the booth, shooting a wink and two finger guns. "Looking sexy as ever, Dejun."

Dejun smiles indulgently, not even pausing from where he's flipping a pork strip. "Thank you, but I'm taken."

"Sadly." Mark makes a point of exaggerating his sigh, peering at Dejun with wide eyes.

"I mean if you want it that badly, something can be arranged with Yukhei," Dejun continues breezily. "I'm sure he would be willing."

Mark's gay little brain fizzles out for exactly three seconds. "Um."

"Kidding," Dejun grins, handing him a pork strip in a paper cup. "Or am I?"

"Don't play with me like that, man," Mark whines. He takes the paper cup when Dejun shakes it under his nose. "I'm already having a bad day."

"Oh? Care to tell?"

"You know how I decided to work here so I can save up for med school?" Mark begins, talking through his slice of pork. "It's still not enough."

Dejun sucks air through his teeth in sympathy. "The whole summer?"

"Yeah! Calculated the bare minimum expenses I would need for the rest of the month and everything. Nada."

"That fucking sucks, man," Dejun commiserates, blowing on another pork strip before feeding him.

Mark opens up like a baby bird and accepts the meat. "Should I just give up and take a gap year to work?" he says, chewing thoughtfully.

"Up to you, dude. Unless you magically get a promotion at the end of summer."

"Is it too late to start planning my takeover of the grocery department?"

"Decidedly. But wait—" Dejun snaps his fingers. "You could try for a bonus."

Mark winces. He's had enough tardies that a bonus is out of the question. "Mr. Goody Two Shoes Jeno is already getting employee of the month, so no, I don't think so."

"No, not that, dummy. There's a secret bonus."

"A _what?_ "

Dejun turns off the grill, beckoning him to come closer, and Mark does. "I haven't told anyone this. But when Yukhei and I got together, we got a bonus from management."

"You got a bonus... for getting hitched," Mark repeats, dumbfounded.

"Yeah, man. Something about us being adults and loyalty to the brand, pretty sure they just wanted to guilt us into working for the store forever. But it was plenty, and it really helped us when we were looking for an apartment."

"How much?"

"300,000 won."

Mark's eyes widen to the size of saucers. "Three hundred thou—what?"

"I know, it's insane."

"Well, do you know anyone that's secretly in love with me?" Mark demands urgently.

"You wish," Dejun snorts. "Do they have to be?"

"I mean, feasibly? So I can give dating them a try?"

"They don't have to be in love with you," Dejun clarifies. "You just need to convince people you're dating."

"Huh. That might work," Mark ponders, rubbing at his chin. "Who do you think would be up to it? Jaehyun?"

"Nah, I'm pretty sure he and Mingyu have something going on."

Mark sighs dreamily. "Damn."

"I know, right?"

"Yerim?"

"You're gay. And _out."_ Dejun flips another pork strip. "Not to mention dumb."

"Hey!"

"You're missing the obvious choice," the other boy continues, glaring at him like he's stupid. "Kunhang."

Mark's lips part to form an "o". Of course! Kunhang is another clerk in the store, in the same department as them. And a raging bisexual, as far as he knows. "Kunhang! That's perfect." Mark wilts as quickly as he had lit up. "Would he be up to it, though?"

Dejun shrugs. "Kunhang is nice."

"Nice enough to fake date me?"

"Depending on how convincing you are. I mean, you could halve the cut? 150k is a lot of incentive, and drafting materials do not come cheap."

Mark stares.

"Architect things," Dejun explains helpfully.

"Ah. Right."

"Right," Dejun repeats, unimpressed. "Anyways, no harm in asking, right? Both of you are broke graduates who need the cash. I'm sure Kunhang would be open to it."

"Ask Kunhang to pretend to be my boyfriend," Mark recites. "Right. No biggie."

"Hey, man." Dejun claps a hand on his shoulder. "If anyone asks, I totally saw it coming."

"You're a godsend, Dejun. Honestly."

Dejun makes a big heart with his hands, giving Mark's butt a friendly tap as he goes. "Go get 'em!"

* * *

Mark and Kunhang have been friends—friends?—for as long as he's been working at the supermarket. Sure, they've had a few amicable break room chats, and they share exasperated looks when a customer is being particularly frustrating. But he isn't close to Kunhang like he is to Dejun, and certainly not close enough that he could just walk up to him and ask him to be his fake boyfriend.

What would he even say? _Hey, I'm broke. Please pretend we're gay for each other?_

It's a disaster in the making. But God, he's desperate, and if Mark is good at anything, it's being thick-skinned.

Cautiously, he rounds the corner to the canned goods area, where Kunhang is making a very elaborate town made of SPAM cans. It even has a little city hall and everything! Said boy is perched on a stool, finishing one of the towers off with one last SPAM antenna. Satisfied, he smiles, clapping his hands in satisfaction.

Kunhang grins wider when he spots Mark, carefully stepping down the stool. "Oh, hey, Mark! Like the display?"

Mark nods, stroking a fake beard as though in deep thought. "Very modernist, I like it."

"You have no clue what you're saying, do you?"

"Nope," Mark agrees gleefully. "But the city does look nice."

"Thanks!" Kunhang beams. "This is the culmination of all the blood, sweat, and tears I shed while studying the noble art of architecture: making miniature SPAM towns for SM Mart."

"Truly portfolio worthy, I would say."

"So! What brings you here?" Kunhang asks with an accommodating smile, dusting his hands off on his pants. "I thought you and Yukhei were doing inventory today."

"About that, actually..." Mark waffles. "I have a favor to ask of you. A kind of huge favor."

"What about?" Kunhang's easy grin quickly morphs into concern. "How can I help?"

Kunhang is so sweet. Mark almost feels bad for asking.

Inhaling deeply before he speaks, Mark says all in one breath: "I need you to fake date me so I can get the couple bonus for my schoolbooks."

Kunhang gapes at him. "You need me to _what_?"

"To fake date me?" Mark repeats hopefully. "So I can buy supplies for med school?"

"Aren't you working so you can _buy_ those supplies?" Kunhang questions, arms crossed. "And what bonus are you even talking about?"

"I've been working my ass off all summer but it still isn't enough!" Mark gripes. "Dejun told me that he and Yukhei got a bonus when they got together—300,000 won!—and that's more than enough for me to get through the year."

Kunhang gapes. "Three hundred _thousand—"_

"I know! That's what I said!" Mark bursts out. He clasps his hands together, pleading. "Please, dude, I'll be in your debt forever. We'll share the cut, fifty-fifty. I really fucking need this."

Kunhang grimaces. Before he can speak, Mark grabs at his arms, making his eyes go as wide as humanly possible. "Help a bro out, hm?" he simpers. "Think of it as an act of altruism! You're saving the world by helping an aspiring doctor reach his dream."

When Kunhang only stares at him, immobile, Mark pushes his face nearer to the other boy's; this makes Kunhang look away, ears reddening, and Mark knows he's won.

"Please? Pretty please?" he tacks on for good measure, and Kunhang finally sighs, pushing Mark off of him.

"God, _fine._ But you owe me big time."

"Oh my God, Kunhang, _yes—"_ Mark wraps his arms around Kunhang in elation, lifting him off the floor. "You won't regret it! I'll be the best fake boyfriend ever!"

Kunhang looks a little ruffled when Mark sets him down, his ears a bright red. "Yeah, yeah. Don't you have a job to get to?"

Mark grins, pointing two finger guns at Kunhang as he walks backward. "Thank you! You're the best!"

Kunhang shoots finger guns back at him. "Goodbye, Mark."

"I'll meet you after work!"

"Uh huh."

**shorty with the brows**  
2:18 pm

KUNHANG SAID YES

omg you're getting married

:p no fun

i didn't think it would work

WHY DID YOU SUGGEST HIM THEN

idk to see you suffer

man fuck you

good luck xoxo

The restaurant that Kunhang drags him to is cute. It's an all-day breakfast place, decorated in yellow and pink, with plants in glass balls and delicate chimes suspended from the ceiling. Kunhang orders bacon and eggs; Mark goes for a stack of blueberry pancakes.

"How did you even know about this place?" Mark asks in wonder. They've settled into a corner booth, and the wall it's against is covered in floor-to-ceiling mirrors.

"Had a lot of free time on my hands after graduating," Kunhang shrugs. "Pretty nice, don't you think?"

"More than just nice," Mark agrees, then he smiles. "Not a bad choice for our first date."

"Oh, Lord. Don't make me regret this already."

Mark grins, rooting around in his backpack for a notebook, letting out a little "aha!" when he finds it. "Alright, so. I spent my break formulating a foolproof plan," he starts, spreading the notebook open on the tabletop, and damn, does it feel good to do something vaguely academic. It reminds him of late nights spent studying at restaurants with his friends.

Kunhang has his head in his hands. "Oh my God."

"I do not take risks, Kunhang," Mark says seriously. "SM could sue us for fraud, or something."

Kunhang winces. "Right. What's your plan?"

"We have to work our way up management. So we're starting from the clerks in our department," he begins, pointing to the bullet helpfully marked "GROCERY DEPARTMENT". "Grocery is the largest, so we should start there. Dejun and Yukhei are already helping out."

Mark sees Kunhang physically glitching. "Dejun and Yukhei are in on this?"

"Yeah? Dejun was the one to suggest that I ask you."

"That fucker," Kunhang mutters under his breath.

"Hey, he said you needed the cash for your drafting stuff."

"I suppose," Kunhang concedes, fingers at his temples. "They're helping us, you said?"

"Just to start a whisper campaign," Mark clarifies.

"Whisper campaign."

"Say what you want, Kunhang, but I know what I'm doing here."

"A little too well, if you're asking me," Kunhang answers. Mark makes a show of rolling his eyes, but he's smiling.

"Alright, so: grocery department. But it needs to be convincing. It would be suspicious if we said we were dating right away. We have to look like we're just starting to like each other."

"Agreed," Kunhang says, not breaking his concentration even when their orders arrive. It almost gives Mark whiplash how quickly he gets invested in the plan—apparently, drafting materials must not come cheap. "We have to have a story," he says in between sips of his milkshake. "To make it believable. Like, how we got together."

"Uh, can't say I've had any experience in that area," Mark admits sheepishly. "So I wouldn't know what to say."

Kunhang pauses. "You've never dated anyone before?"

"Spent all of college studying, so no," Mark says, sinking deeper into his seat, fully aware of how lame he sounds. "Didn't have the time."

"Damn. What a loss for the gay community."

"Alright, we get it. You were hot shit."

"Hardly," Kunhang snorts. He swirls his straw around his glass, breaking up the bigger chunks of ice. "Had a total of like. One boyfriend and two girlfriends, one of which was Yerim."

Mark chokes on his banana hazelnut blast. " _Yerim?_ You dated _Yerim?_ "

"For one week, yeah," Kunhang elaborates. "Before she realized she was allergic to male-presenting genitals. I forget that I haven't told you that yet."

Mark waves a hand. "No. But definitely tell me what it's like being a comphet boyfriend."

Kunhang promptly kicks his shin under the table. Mark yelps, glaring at Kunhang who's smiling around the straw of his milkshake. "The plan?"

"Right. So our next target is going to be the health and beauty department..."

**shorty with the brows**  
9:20 pm

you didn't tell me kunhang was cool

i dont go around calling people "cool"  
what is this 2009

whatever!!

wait youre WITH kunhang rn?

yea

LMAOOO get it

get what  
dejun what do i get

figure it out yourself ;)

...  
fucking cryptid

**kunhang (work)**  
9:48 pm

yo  
did you get home

awe he's concerned :)  
yea i'm home

10:01 pm

I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU LEFT ME ON READ

lmao  
good night mark

>:( gn

Despite the shin-kicking and the teasing and Mark stealing half of Kunhang's bacon, last night's meeting was productive. The plan is almost-foolproof and in full swing, ready to be carried out for the rest of the summer.

"And if SM finds out we basically swindled them?" Kunhang had asked.

"We flee to Switzerland with new names and passports?" Mark tried, to which Kunhang had solemnly agreed.

Surprisingly—or unsurprisingly—Mark actually had fun on their not-date. He's never talked to Kunhang for so long one on one about topics not related to work; it's a bit of a pity, he thinks, that he never tried to get to know the other boy better. They get along well.

Kunhang had come up with the brilliant idea of coming into work together the next day—well, today, which is why Mark is standing under the huge oak tree in the parking lot, trying to hide from the other employees coming in.

"Boo!"

"Ah, fuck!" Mark yells, jumping about a foot into the air. He socks a grinning Kunhang on the arm as soon as he spots him. "Low blow, man."

"Not my fault you startle easily," Kunhang says. "So? Heist day one?"

"Heist day one," Mark nods, hiking his backpack up higher on his shoulders.

The break room is fairly full when they walk in, and they get a few sideway glances from Jaehyun and a look of approval from Dejun and Yukhei in particular, but only Yerim really comments, brows hiking up so high that Mark fears they'll disappear into her hairline.

"Do my eyes deceive me?" she proclaims. "When did y'all start being so buddy buddy?"

Mark, emboldened by the knowledge that Kunhang had so generously imparted last night, smirks at her. "Jealous?"

"That's the funniest thing you've ever said to me," Yerim says, straight-faced. "Got my eye on you, Mark Lee."

"And I have no say in this?" Kunhang complains.

"Mark is the dangerous one here, honey," Yerim tuts, patting him on the shoulder. "He's a heartbreaker, this one. Watch out."

Kunhang rolls his eyes. "Well, for that at least, I have to agree."

"What does that even mean?" Both of them ignore him, leaving for their usual seats. "What does that _mean,_ Yerim, wait—"

He's left alone to skulk over to his seat beside Dejun and Yukhei, who are leaning eagerly over the table. "Well?" Dejun says expectantly. "How's it going?"

"It's going?" Mark answers with hesitation, sliding into his seat. "I mean, Yerim and Jaehyun noticed. I think."

Yukhei nods thoughtfully. "I got you, dude." He turns to Renjun from the deli section, whispering furiously with furtive and unsubtle glances towards him and Kunhang.

Mark hides a smirk behind his hand. "Remind me to treat Yukhei to dinner sometime."

"We're a 2-in-1 package, my friend," Dejun sighs. "Only if I'm included, too."

"Consider it done."

As though on cue, the break room chatter dies down at exactly 9:00 am. Like clockwork, he and Dejun roll their eyes, crossing their arms as the managers take their place in front of the room.

All their bi-weekly morning briefings are the same: Johnny does the talking while Joohyun, the branch manager, watches benevolently from her spot beside the break room television. Why the assistant manager does all the talking, Mark doesn't know. He suspects that Joohyun just can't be bothered; plus, he's pretty sure that Johnny likes the attention.

Mark tunes it all out. Most of it is just reminders to abide by the code of conduct, when the next shipment of pencils are coming in, blah blah blah. At some point, Johnny reminds them to come in on time so they can "keep Kun and Taeyong happy," and everyone in the room lets out a low groan.

"Siiiiimp," Jaehyun yells from the back of the room, hand cupped around his mouth.

Johnny rolls his eyes. "How very illuminating, Mr. Jung. Now: onto the holiday discounts..."

Mark zones out again. Not his department. He's here to restock shelves, take inventory, and get a 300k bonus.

Thankfully, Wednesday is usually the supermarket's slowest day. Couple that with the fact that almost all of the students in their little university town have gone home for the summer, work is moving at a snail's pace. This usually means that he, Dejun, and Yukhei can safely hang around the food stalls up front and play a round of Uno while they eat yesterday's batch of donuts left over from the bakery.

It would be perfect, if not for the drivel blasting through the speakers.

Dejun massages his temples. "On God, if Jaehyun keeps blasting his fuckboy music I swear..."

"What's a man gotta do to get some Britney on the playlist?" Mark groans, putting down a draw four. Yukhei curses and gets four cards from the deck. "This is a monopoly. A tyranny. A dictatorship. I demand equal access to the aux."

"You know it's cause he's fucking the tech guy, right?" Yukhei offers. "Doyoung?"

"Man, who _isn't_ Jaehyun fucking in this store?" Dejun asks in disgust.

"Do we even want to know?"

"No. No I do not."

"That's four of us already," someone pipes up from behind them. Kunhang walks up to stand at the head of their table, observing the game. "I think we can count that as a win."

"I mean, if I were that hot," Yukhei says diplomatically, and Mark _snorts,_ because Yukhei is literally a part-time model. "I would fuck as much as Jaehyun does."

"I just hope he hasn't done it here," Kunhang adds, scrunching up his nose. "He and Doyoung seem like the kind of freaks that would."

Dejun shakes his head, smiling when Mark glares at him for putting down a reverse card. "This store is totally unprofessional, but I'm pretty sure Kun wouldn't hesitate to fire them if there's semen flying around in a goddamn _supermarket._ "

"Oh God. When you put it like _that..._ "

"Speaking of semen, we need to refill the dairy section," Kunhang directs to Mark.

He pretends to retch all over the table. "Ew ew _ew,_ worst segue ever."

Kunhang honest to God _cackles,_ grabbing Mark's hand to pull him up. "Come on, boyfriend. We have a date with the refrigerator."

"Stay safe!" Dejun yells after them. Mark flips him off, CCTVs and the threat of an HR report be damned.

Kunhang skips happily after him when he retrieves the required dairy from the storeroom. "You know, I thought you were sweet," Mark huffs, adjusting the box of milk cartons in his arms.

Mark didn't even know a smile was capable of being acerbic, but Kunhang manages. "Maybe you thought wrong."

"I see that now." He frowns at the cartoon cows on the milk cartons. "Why do I have to be the one carrying the milk, again?"

"I'm not the one who was slacking off."

"It's Wednesday! And who even bought enough milk that we need to refill the refrigerators?" Mark whines, plopping the box onto the floor with an "oof".

"Some freak who wants a milk bath?" Kunhang suggests, leaning on one of the glass doors as Mark opens the nearest display fridge.

"How do you even know that a freak would want that unless _you're_ the freak?" Mark questions. He braces himself for the chill of the refrigerator door hitting his back, but it never does.

He looks up. Kunhang is holding the door open, tilting his head when Mark stares. "What?"

Mark shakes his head, smiling as he gets back to stacking the milk cartons. "Nothing."

Nah. Kunhang definitely is sweet.

**eongdeongil hendery bwa bingeul bangeul**  
3:39 pm

OH MY GOD I  
IS THAT  
BRITNEY JEAN SPEARS?

i heard yerim staged a coup for the aux

god bless her

the way the energy changed when toxic started playing...

just princess of pop tingz  
#FreeBritney

#FreeBritney

should i fuck doyoung so we can get aux privileges too

LMAO  
not very conducive to the plan, i don't think

damn. u right

guess we just have to suffer drake for the rest of the summer

you'll have me :)

shut up

:(

Day two, and Mark has devised a spot map of the break room tables, shading in whoever has seemingly been convinced that he and Kunhang are an item: a quarter of a table for Yerim, who sits with the other cashiers, and a few diagonal lines for Renjun's posse, all thanks to Yukhei.

Kunhang had looked impressed, peering at the sheet of paper with interest. "You should pencil our table in," he suggested. "Me, Yangyang, Ten."

"Yangyang and Ten think we're a thing?" Mark had questioned, shading the little circle. Inside the lines, of course.

"I'm very persuasive," Kunhang had said simply, and that was that.

Dejun, on the other hand, took one look at it and snorted. "Bitches take one epidemiology class and think they're Einstein..."

"John Snow," Mark had corrected.

"Whatever, nerd."

Otherwise, day two has been uneventful, all the other clerks spread out between the departments to actually get some work done. Never one to waste time, Mark takes this as an opportunity to latch onto Kunhang so that a) people can see them together and b) he can get to know Kunhang better. People might start asking questions, after all; it would be embarrassing if he doesn't even know what Kunhang's favorite color is.

Which is why Mark is sitting snugly in a shopping cart, arms around his knees to give way for his fellow passengers—the passengers being cereal boxes that they have to put on the shelves. Behind him, Kunhang is pushing the cart with surprising strength, considering that Mark is his size. Maybe he's secretly super jacked, or something. Either way, it makes him feel like a kid again, a semi-permanent smile etched on his face as Kunhang carts him around the aisles.

"What's your greatest fear?" he pipes up, twisting his neck to look up at Kunhang.

Kunhang raises a brow in response. Certainly they're past the icebreaker stage, but it's still a fun question. Mark blinks up at him expectantly.

"That someone will lick an ice cream tub and leave it in the freezer," Kunhang answers without hesitation.

"Oh, God." Mark shudders, resuming his previous position. "I was going to say dying alone, but yours is so much more terrifying."

"Nah. You're not dying alone," Kunhang says offhandedly, lining up boxes of Froot Loops as Mark hands them to him.

"Aw. Ya think so?"

"Of course. Not with those cheekbones."

"You think I have nice cheekbones?"

"Everyone thinks you have nice cheekbones," Kunhang replies, in a perfunctory manner. "Plus, you're going to be a doctor. If you get lonely, you can always be a sugar daddy."

Mark hums, waiting patiently for Kunhang to get behind the wheel again. Or, well, the handle. "I think I would make a better sugar baby. Maybe I should have signed up for Seeking Arrangement instead?"

"That's a much better idea than fake dating me," Kunhang agrees. "Why didn't you think of that first?"

"Pretending to like you is only slightly less disgusting than being felt up by fifty year old men."

Kunhang hums thoughtfully, surveying the row of jumbo-sized Raisin Bran boxes. Then he starts speeding up, jogging lightly and—accelerating?

Fear quickly overtakes every other emotion Mark has. "No. No, wait, I'm sorry—Kunhang don't you _dare_ —"

"Too late," Kunhang crows, and he's breaking into a run, pushing Mark down the store aisles at breakneck speed. He screams bloody murder, Kunhang laughing all the while.

He thinks he hears Sicheng from the produce department screeching out a "Kunhang what the _fu—_ " but he never hears the tail end of it because they're going far too quickly, and he's going to die young, please, someone tell his mom and dad he loves them—

The shopping cart skids to a halt right in front of the doors of the stock room. Mark clutches at his chest, regaining his breath, and turns to glare at Kunhang in accusation. "You _fucker._ "

Kunhang wipes a few tears from his eyes. "It was hilarious, admit it."

"If you think giving me a heart attack is comedy, then yes."

"Yeah. Definitely." Kunhang helps him out of the cart, though, and Mark mumbles his thanks as he begrudgingly takes Kunhang's hand.

They're squabbling over how many boxes of Cap'n Crunch to take when the door of the stock room swings open. Whoever it is, they're humming a tune as they go, getting closer to where he and Kunhang are standing, frozen.

Kunhang presses a finger to his lips. "Kun?" he mouths.

Mark's eyes widen. Kun—human resources—it's perfect. "Quick! Act like we were just making out."

"How the fuck am I supposed to do that?" Kunhang whispers frantically.

"Here—" Mark reaches up and musses his hair around, and Kunhang retaliates, quickly devolving into a petty slap fight.

"Hello?" Kun calls, and they straighten, trying to look as guilty as possible.

It must look realistic, because by the time Kun rounds the corner, both of them are breathing heavily, hair sticking up from all directions. Kun pauses as though debating whether to proceed or not.

"Hello, boys," he ventures carefully. "Anything you want to tell me?"

"No," Kunhang says, convincingly.

"Right." Kun's eyes flit between the two of them. "Since this is the first time, I'll let it slide. But if I catch you two again, it's on company time, okay?"

"Yes, sir," Mark manages to wheeze out. Kun nods, satisfied, turning to leave.

Mark erupts into a laughing fit as soon as the doors close, and Kunhang follows suit, the two of them skipping around in glee. "Oh my God. Someone call the Academy."

"I cannot believe Kun believed that," Kunhang giggles, reaching up to fix Mark's hair.

He stays still, letting Kunhang arrange his rat's nest into some semblance of order. He tries to stifle a smile at how Kunhang is biting his lip in concentration. "Well, what if we really have to kiss next time?"

"Let's not think about that until it comes," Kunhang says, wincing as he steps away.

"No, really! I need to know your limits."

Kunhang avoids his eyes as he answers. "Kissing is fine."

"You sure? _"_

"Yes, Mark, I'm sure."

Mark leers at him, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Wanna practice right now?"

He gets a punch to the stomach for his efforts. " _Dick,_ " Kunhang mutters, but he steadies the shopping cart so Mark can hop back in.

* * *

"I think that we've progressed to hand-holding," Mark announces the next day at the parking lot.

"Aw. _Babe,_ " Kunhang answers, straight-faced.

"For real!" Mark insists. "Think about it: Kun caught us 'making out'. We're basically at the next level."

Kunhang sighs, massaging his temples with one hand. "Fine." He holds out his hand for Mark to take, and Mark beams, swinging their hands between them as they walk.

"This is so romantic," he sighs. "I haven't had anyone hold my hand since the company retreat when Yukhei was too scared to go down the slip-n-slide."

"Dunno if that's sad or funny."

"Maybe both," Mark acquiesces. "But hey. At least we look totally legit now."

At Mark's prompting, Kunhang bypasses his usual seat with Yangyang and Ten to sit with him, Dejun, and Yukhei, the former two making crude gestures that Kunhang flips the bird at.

"Hey there, lovebirds," Yukhei simpers, nudging Mark a little too forcefully on his side.

"You don't have to pretend when it's just us four," Kunhang says, pained.

"Still! You look cute together," Yukhei laughs. He clams up when both Kunhang and Dejun glare at him.

Before Mark can decipher what _that_ means, Johnny and Joohyun make their entrance, wasting no time rolling through the morning announcements. Mark zones out again, except when Johnny caps off his speech not with his usual platitudes, but something that makes the room erupt into curious "ooh"s: "HR told me to remind you that employees are discouraged to engage in personal relations while clocked in."

"Yukhei, you dog," Jaehyun accuses.

"It wasn't me!" Yukhei holds up his hands in protest, looking pointedly at Mark and Kunhang.

All eyes are now on them sitting way too close together, and Mark can't help his blush at the attention.

"Mark?" Johnny asks, the epitome of betrayal. "It was you?"

He sinks further into his seat. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Yerim choke on her latte. "Sorry, Johnny."

The rest of the staff whoops and hollers, Jaehyun the loudest among them.

"Alright, everyone, calm down," Johnny tries. "Clerks, please keep your... _carnal relations_ to a minimum in the workplace."

"Oh _God_." Kunhang buries his face in his hands. He doesn't look up until the break room has cleared and only the four of them are left.

"Way to save our asses, Yukhei," Dejun snickers.

"Hey! It wasn't _that_ bad," Yukhei says apologetically. "At least people know now."

"Yeah, literally _everyone_ that was in the break room," Kunhang laments.

"So our plan got accelerated a little bit," Mark reasons. "That's good! More marks on the spot map, right?"

"Right," Kunhang echoes hollowly. "I'm doing this for the bonus. I'm doing this for the bonus..."

Despite the rewards far outweighing the embarrassment, Kunhang spends the rest of the day in a catatonic state, leaving Mark to do most of the work. He can't complain; he _does_ feel a little bad about subjecting Kunhang to that kind of scrutiny, even though it's fake.

Thankfully Kunhang seems to have recovered after lunch, back to his usual limber state. Enough to point out one glaring flaw in their plan.

They're on break, stolen goodies from the pantry spread all over their table when Kunhang has his revelation. "I know that 'Cry Me a River' is an absolute fucking bop," Mark is explaining, "But I will never forgive JT for basically fucking Brit over for _more than ten years_ —"

Kunhang slams his hands onto the tabletop. _"Fuck._ We forgot something."

Mark pouts, put out that his tirade about the former *NSYNC member was cut short. "What?"

The words that leave Kunhang's lips are enough to send a full-body shudder through him. "Jeonghan and Jaemin."

Jeonghan and Jaemin... how does Mark even begin to describe the two? He would start by saying they work in sales, but even that truth is half a lie. Jeonghan and Jaemin do not _work_ in sales—they _run_ sales, despite being five years younger than the sales manager. One second, it's all small talk and smiles, then you're walking away with a portable juicer that you don't even need. Heck, Jeonghan got Jaemin—his little brother—the job, and no one dared to even say the word "nepotism".

Jeonghan terrifies Mark, lowkey. That man could bat his eyelashes a bit and get away with _arson._ It's his and his brother's uncanny ability to see straight through someone, pull their deepest desires from within their hearts and use them to their advantage. To them, everyone is an open book, as transparent as saran wrap.

If they somehow find out that he and Kunhang are lying, they're fucked. Between their omniscience and ability to convince the most stubborn consumer, their fake relationship would be debunked before Mark can even say "bonus".

 _But._ If it goes the other way around...

"Man," Mark starts, eyes widening in enlightenment. "If we convince Jeonghan and Jaemin, we're good to go."

"Agreed. Shit." Kunhang furrows his brows in thought. _Cute._

Wait, what?

"I go for we just avoid them until we get the bonus," Kunhang continues, and Mark snaps out of his trance.

"Nah. That's just gonna make it look even more fishy."

"True." Kunhang blows air out of his cheeks. "We should just act as normal as possible and leave it to God."

Mark winces, but he nods. The prospect is terrifying, but they're out of options. "Agreed."

"Wait. What was it you were saying about JT and 'Cry Me a River?"

Mark perks up, spreading his hands over the table to command attention. "Okay, so. This story starts in 1993, on the set of a little show called Mickey Mouse Club..."

**grocery department clerks class of 2021**  
4:28 pm

**dejun**  
yall tryna go swimming this weekend

**kunhang**  
fuck yes

yes pls!!

**yukhei**  
we can drive there together!!  
kunhang you'll take mark right

**dejun**  
nasty

...

**kunhang**  
...  
yeah we'll go in my car

**yukhei**  
sweet!!  
see ya tmrw

**dejun**  
bring sunscreen

lit

**kunhang**  
ew

>:(

**eongdeongil hendery bwa bingeul bangeul**  
2:49 am

MAN FUCK JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE!!!!

it's almost 3 am??  
but also YES OMG FUCK THAT DUDE

yeah i may have fallen into a rabbit hole  
KEEP BRITNEY OUT OF YOUR MOUTH SMH YOUR CRUSTY ASS WOULD BE IRRELEVANT WITHOUT HER

PERIOD SIS  
YOUR FAME IS BUILT OFF THE BACKS OF SUCCESSFUL WOMEN SIT DOWN

ON GOD  
MAN OF THE WOODS CRITICAL FLOP!!!

DFFKJGKJSDHGD

At 8 am on Saturday, Kunhang pulls up at his apartment building in adorable little Kia, bright yellow sunglasses perched on his face. "Get in, loser. We're going swimming."

Taking advantage of Kunhang's distraction while he tries to re-enter traffic, Mark makes a grab for the aux and starts blasting the Britney album. Kunhang sighs, even though a smile is spreading on his face. "Of fucking course."

"Hey," Mark chastises. " _I know I may be young, but I've got feelings too_ —"

"Oh my God," Kunhang interrupts, but not even a minute passes until they're singing along with no inhibitions.

It's about an hour's drive to the Airbnb that the four of them have split the rent on for the day, a nice little place with a pool and a grill. As soon as he sets down the cooler that he and Dejun brought, Yukhei immediately jumps into the pool, drenching them all in his wake. Kunhang laughs, taking off his shirt as he runs and jumps after him.

Dejun shakes his head, throwing their shared duffel bag onto one of the patio tables. "I'm dating a child," he laments, but he waves back when Yukhei tries to catch his attention.

It's hot enough that Mark and Dejun shed their shirts, too. Too lazy to swim, they stretch across the loungers scattered on the deck, ripping open a few ice creams and beers—Mark's humble contribution to their outing.

Kunhang and Yukhei have progressed from aimlessly splashing water around to a full-on fight, aggressively dousing each other in waves of water that spill out over the pool edge. Despite the less-than-mature nature of their actions, the two of them make the whole thing look like a GQ cover.

Yukhei is attractive, that's just a fact of life—but _Kunhang_. Mark has always thought he was handsome in his own way, but right now with his long hair drenched in water and sunlight glinting off the droplets trickling down his chest, he looks gorgeous. And his arms... Mark feels like he should have been warned about this development. Who knew that beneath the striped black and white sweaters and Thrasher shirts, Kunhang was hiding a lethal set of _guns?_ Not too burly, but he's got enough arm that Mark takes notice.

"Where are you looking, Mark Lee?" Dejun is poking at him with his now-clean popsicle stick, making him jerk out of his trance.

"Nowhere in particular," Mark tries.

"Mhm." Dejun tosses the stick into a plastic bag, opening up a Jaws bar. "Admit it. Kunhang looks great."

"You said you were taken?"

"Happily, yes. But I have eyes too, y'know."

Mark ducks his head, caught. "Yeah, he's cute."

"See, wasn't so hard, was it?" Dejun exclaims, nudging him with a foot. He smiles, pushing his glasses up his forehead to look at Mark. "Yukhei was right, you know. That you look good together."

"Really?" Mark answers absently. "Never thought about it that way."

"Of course you don't. You've conditioned yourself into _not_ thinking about anyone that way."

"I mean, I guess." Mark pouts, staring at the watermelon bar in his hand. "I couldn't afford to get distracted."

"Yeah, but what about now, though? It's summer break," Dejun reasons. "Probably the last few free weeks of your life before going to med school."

" _If_ I can still go to med school."

"Well, yeah... But my point still stands."

"So what are you suggesting?" Mark questions, leaning forward in his seat. "That I get together with Kunhang for real?"

"Not _that_ exactly, but just..." Dejun waves his hands around incoherently. "Start opening your heart to the possibility, maybe. It doesn't have to be Kunhang, really. Just anyone you like."

"Didn't you say that I only have a few weeks of freedom?" he asks with a small smile.

Dejun purses his lips. "Yeah, but apart from that. What's stopping you?"

The question gives Mark pause. He looks over to the pool, where Kunhang is laughing maniacally after just having spiked a half-deflated beach ball into Yukhei's face. Yukhei grabs him by the waist, hoisting him over his shoulder, and Kunhang screams his demands to be put down.

"Right?" he breathes out.

Dejun gives him a sympathetic half-smile, squeezing his thigh as he stands. "Forget I brought it up. It was silly of me."

"No, it's okay. I know you're just looking out for me."

"When have I ever said that?" Dejun says, appalled. But he leaves a sticky kiss on Mark's cheek nonetheless, leaving Mark to smile at nothing while he disappears into the living room.

Now alone, Mark sighs, blinking thoughtfully at the quickly melting ice cream in his hand. He finishes it off with one last _pop_ as he pulls the stick from between his lips.

When he looks up, Kunhang is staring at him, cheeks a little red. Mark turns away to wipe at his mouth, embarrassed. Ears burning, he follows Dejun into the living room, trying to shake Kunhang's flustered face from his mind.

* * *

They leave around five, Dejun taking the wheel of Yukhei's Honda Civic, the owner of which is tuckered out in the front seat. "All that splashing around left him tired," Dejun says fondly, tucking a jacket around his slumbering boyfriend. "It's like taking care of a five year old."

"Text us when you get home," Kunhang reminds him, stepping aside so Dejun can hug Mark, too. "See you on Monday."

The two of them watch Dejun drive off before getting into Kunhang's car, their hands overlapping as they try to go for the driver's seat. "You're not tired?" Mark asks. "I can drive."

"I'm not like Yukhei," Kunhang snorts. "I'll be fine. Just put Britney on again, or something. Anything that'll keep me awake."

"Circus album it is, then," Mark concludes, circling the car so he can ride shotgun. "But if you yawn even _once,_ I'm making you get out and switch."

“That's what she said.“

Mark purses his lips, trying not to laugh.

No sooner than the moment they pull out of the driveway, sheets of rain start pouring down, obnoxiously loud against the tinted glass of the car. "Well, I'm definitely awake now," Kunhang grumbles, turning on the wipers with one flick of his wrist. "Can you pull up Google Maps? See if there's any traffic on the way to your apartment."

Mark winces, scrolling through the directions on his phone. "The road to my place is flooded."

"Ah, shit. The train?"

Mark deflates at the idea of taking the train at rush hour on a weekend. "If I can even fit."

"Right." Kunhang coughs, eyes steady on the road. "Well... you can stay at my place?"

"For real?"

"I mean, it's either that or get stranded. You have extra clothes, right?"

"Yeah. Is that really okay with you?"

"No problem. Besides, my sex dungeon hasn't had a visitor in a while."

Mark's laugh comes out as more of a choke. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Kunhang smirk.

Kunhang's apartment building looks much nicer than his own, with actual security instead of a bored teenager manning the lobby. His unit is decorated with large windows spanning the entire height of the far wall; beside the living area, a bed is resting on a small platform that can be accessed with a set of stairs, a dresser tucked neatly beneath it. A drafting table rests along one of the windows, a few papers spread across it.

" _Dude._ " Mark takes the room in, jaw dropped. "You didn't tell me you were rich!"

"Oh, I'm not rich," Kunhang waves him off, closing the door behind them.

"That's exactly what a rich kid would say!" Mark accuses.

"Mhm," Kunhang answers with disinterest. Mark pouts, feeling much like a child being humored. "You can get cleaned up while I fix dinner.

"You can cook, too? Can I apply to be your roommate?"

Kunhang snorts. "I'd like to keep my bachelor pad to myself, thanks."

Mark harrumphs, but he's quickly distracted by the contents of the apartment: an abundance of rulers and triangles and French curves hung up for display beside the television, a framed sketch of a building on the far wall, a tall shelf containing books and a few abstract sculptures that he can't make sense of. The place is decorated minimally, but it feels homey, smelling faintly of lavender.

When Mark steps out of the bathroom, he's met with the smell of garlic and the sight of Kunhang wearing a hair elastic to keep his bangs off his forehead as he cooks.

Mark swallows. He might have to rethink his aversion to men with ponytails.

He flops onto the couch to distract himself, fiddling with the Rubik's cube on the coffee table. "Can I help?"

"I've seen you burn popcorn in the break room microwave, so no," Kunhang replies. "Just stay put."

"Yes, sir," Mark agrees begrudgingly. He'd rather not have to pay for any fire damage to Kunhang's apartment. "Wanna watch something while we eat?"

"Sure." At Kunhang's answer, Mark reaches for the remote, pulling up Netflix. "I've been rewatching Evangelion, if that's cool with you."

"What's Evangelion?"

Kunhang whips around so quickly that Mark worries for his neck. " _What's Evangelion?"_ he repeats, flabbergasted. "Dude, lemme finish up this fried rice and I'm gonna introduce you to a whole new world."

Mark laughs. Kunhang is dead serious, and his enthusiasm is adorable; Mark can hardly say no. "If you insist."

The rest of the night is spent in a near-catatonic state, the two of them oddly hypnotized by the show as they eat; by episode 4, they're pressed up next to each other on the couch, Mark's head on Kunhang's shoulder as he watches with bated breath. It should feel a little too close for comfort, but Mark is exactly that—comfortable. Besides, there's nothing weird about almost-cuddling while watching anime, right?

They declare a break after episode 8 so Mark can wash the dishes while Kunhang makes a bowl of unburnt popcorn, the latter raving about the show all the while. It sounds weird, but he likes the way that Kunhang... talks? His eyes shine as he goes on about Hideaki Anno and the frailty of the human condition or whatever, and his lips are always turned up ever so slightly as though he's happy just to have the opportunity to speak.

So Mark makes sure to listen as intently as he can even though he can barely understand anything Kunhang says, because honestly, it's mesmerizing, and his passion is infectious.

"So, uh..." Kunhang scratches the back of his head. "Sorry for making you watch such a bummer of a show."

"No, no!" Mark is quick to say, drying his hands on a paper napkin. "I like it. Although I'm questioning the meaning of existence right now."

Kunhang smiles, relieved. "I mean, that's the point, right? We haven't even gotten to the second half of the show yet—that's where the real meat is."

"Looking forward to it," Mark smiles, following an animated Kunhang to the couch.

**fucking weeb**  
9:04 am

u on the train?

yeth

ight stay safe

will do  
me when i'm the best anime op of all time  
[[link]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MjF6AkrXods)

fuck  
[image attached]

bro are you CRYING??

SHUT UP I'M EMO OKAY  
[link]

NO FAIR NOW *I'M* CRYING

REVENGE

By the time half of the spot map has been shaded in, Mark and Kunhang have settled into a routine: wait for each other at the parking lot, or meet up someplace for breakfast when they haven't been able to grab it before leaving for work. Help each other out with the sorting and shelving while at work. Clock out together, then Kunhang will give him a lift to the train station, or he'll stay over at Kunhang's apartment to watch some more anime.

They _could_ be dating, with how much time they spend with each other. It's not like Mark is bothered by it at all; there's only so much you can do in summer on a tight budget, and besides, he's enjoying himself more than anything else because Kunhang is good company.

Not for the first time since their weekend outing, Mark finds himself thinking of his conversation with Dejun. _What's stopping you?_

What _is_ stopping him? There's no classes to study for, no homework to do, no papers to write. He's not disinterested in dating, either, just banned himself from it while in school. He could—hypothetically—get himself out there.

As with everything, he tries to go about it as scientifically as possible.

**Do I ask someone out for real** (e.g. Kunhang (for now))

Pros:

  * Kunhang can cook
  * Kunhang has a nice apartment
  * Kunhang is cute (do NOT let Dejun see this)
  * We technically won't be committing fraud anymore, thus avoiding a possible lawsuit
  * I get to date somebody for once



Cons:

  * The crushing agony of rejection
  * Three weeks before I go to med school and get swamped
  * Med school???



And that's it, isn't it? Everything hinges on whether he'll be able to go to med school or not, which in turn hinges on him and Kunhang being convincing enough to get the bonus.

Although they might not have to worry about that anymore.

The reckoning comes when they're in the employee pantry, debating over the merits of cookies and cream vs. almond Pepero when they hear Jaemin's distinctive voice echoing off the walls, startlingly near. The two of them look at each other in alarm, eyes wide.

"Shit," Mark whispers. "Is this where we leave it to God?"

"I'm atheist."

"Me too! What do we do now?"

Jaemin's voice is growing louder, punctuated by the sound of the pantry door opening. "So I say to Jeno, 'Dude, if you want Donghyuck to fuck you, maybe get that stick out of your ass first—'"

Mark doesn't hear the rest of whatever Jaemin told Jeno because Kunhang is pushing him up against the wall and kissing him.

Kunhang is kissing him. Kunhang. Kissing. _Him._

Mark short circuits for far longer than necessary, trying to process the overload of information that rushes through him: Kunhang's leathery cologne, Kunhang's hands on his waist, Kunhang's lips that taste of the home run balls they had earlier.

It's only then that Mark belatedly realizes that he's supposed to be kissing back; he loops his hands around Kunhang's neck, moving closer and slotting their lips together. Kunhang sucks on his lower lip in response, and Mark has to stifle a moan, because _fuck_ does that feel good. Plan forgotten, he concentrates on Kunhang's lips moving against his, trying his best to reciprocate—to draw a sound out of Kunhang, even just the tiniest groan or whimper—

"Ehem."

They break away quickly, chests heaving to catch their breath. Jeonghan and Jaemin are right in front of them, arms crossed in eerie synchronicity. "Please, don't let us interrupt," Jaemin says with glee, grinning at them with all his teeth bared.

"We'll, uh," Mark fumbles, inching away with his back against the wall. "We'll leave."

Jeonghan holds up two hands in surrender. "No, continue," he simpers. "C'mon, Jaemin, they're having a _moment._ " Jeonghan loops an arm around the younger sales agent and ushers him out, but not without one last knowing wink.

Kunhang exhales, leaning against the cupboard. "Sorry."

"No, it's. It's cool," Mark flounders, avoiding the other clerk's gaze. "We both said kissing was okay."

Kunhang coughs. "Yeah, but. Still."

"Well, they looked pretty convinced, so—" Mark jerks a hand out, and Kunhang stares at it. "Good job!"

Kunhang takes his hand with hesitation, shaking it up and down. "Mhm. Good job."

"Let's, uh—let's head back?" Mark suggests, and Kunhang nods robotically, gesturing for Mark to go first. He scurries out, hands on his cheeks to try and hide his blush.

* * *

Pros:

  * ~~Kunhang is a good kisser~~



* * *

Thanks to their little... _incident_ in the employee pantry, word has spread about him and Kunhang, and the break room gossip is at an all-time high when they walk in together the next day.

"Jeonghan and Jaemin!" Dejun whisper-yells when they take their places next to him and Yukhei. "Why didn't I think of that?"

Yukhei grins, giving them a double thumbs up. "You've got it in the bag. Everyone thinks you're dating now."

"Yeah," Mark agrees absently. Truth be told, the plan is the last thing on his mind right now, far too occupied with a certain clerk sitting right next to him.

Thankfully, there's no announcement from Johnny this time. He might need to drop by the sales office to give Jeonghan and Jaemin a gift basket for not snitching.

Throughout the briefing, Mark tries to sneak glances at Kunhang to see if he's affected by the _incident_ as much as Mark is—but Kunhang is acting like nothing happened, which, okay, Mark can do that too. They restock shelves like usual, take inventory like usual, and Mark tries not to think about the way Kunhang's lips moved against his, the weight of his hands on Mark's hips, his _teeth_ —

"Uh, Mark?" Kunhang's voice floats from somewhere in front of him. "You good? Johnny asked us to help out with the deliveries."

"I'm good," Mark chokes out, following Kunhang down to the receiving area.

The hustle and bustle of machinery is unfamiliar to him, and he cranes his neck, lost, until he sees Jaehyun sitting comfortably behind the wheel of a forklift. "Hey, little Markie!" he enthusiastically waves them over, Mark already dreading the look on Jaehyun's face. "I got some extra brownies, y'all want some?" he prompts, patting the box next to him on the driver's seat.

"Are they laced?" Mark asks cautiously.

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. "No. They're fresh from the bakery. Seokmin made them."

Mark and Kunhang exchange a look. Of course Seokmin made "extra" brownies for Jaehyun. "I'm good, bro."

"Suit yourself. Your boyfriend?"

Kunhang, to his credit, actually flushes. "Same."

Jaehyun tuts, disappointed, but a smile quickly spreads on his face. "Never thought I'd say the words 'Mark's boyfriend', but here we are."

Mark scoffs. "What, like it's impossible?"

"Uh, yeah?" Jaehyun answers as though it's fact. "I know, like, fifteen guys who wanted to shoot their shot but you turned all of them down." He claps Kunhang on the shoulder. "Kunhang here must be a special one."

Kunhang is growing redder by the second. Mark rolls his eyes, shoving Jaehyun's hand off Kunhang's shoulder to replace it with his own. "Alright, Jared, stop embarrassing him."

"That's not even my name."

"Whatever, Jason."

Jaehyun ignores him, instead leaning over the forklift controls to peer at Kunhang with interest. "Tell me, if you're really dating: what do you like about Kunhang?"

Kunhang's eyes widen. "What, me?"

"Yes, you," Jaehyun says with a sly grin, now turning to Mark. "What do you see in Kunhang, little Markie?"

Mark freezes, side-eyeing Kunhang in a panic. Kunhang's only answer is a helpless shrug, just as frazzled as he is.

Right. He can do this. There's plenty he likes about Kunhang. Platonically.

"Well..." Mark starts, turning away from Kunhang's gaze the slightest bit so he doesn't get any more embarrassed than he already is, "I really like his smile. When I see it, I feel like everything's gonna be okay, you know? And he's nice. Not just nice, he's kind without expecting anything in return."

"He really cares about the things he has a passion for. And he keeps his promises," Mark finishes, finally gathering the gumption to look Kunhang in the eye. "I really like that about him."

"Oh God, enough before I throw up brownie mix," Jaehyun interrupts, but he's beaming, eyes shining as he looks between the two of them. "Damn, who would have thought you two would get together, huh?"

"Right?" Kunhang mutters. "Uh, Jaehyun. Johnny mentioned you needed help with some of the deliveries?"

"Oh, yeah! Here, lemme get the logbook real quick..."

Jaehyun scurries away, presumably to get said logbook, leaving the two of them alone. "My smile, huh?" Kunhang pries, looking far too pleased for Mark's liking.

He folds his arms, turning his nose up to avoid Kunhang's gaze. "Yeah, well. Don't get your cute little pants in a twist."

Kunhang chuckles. "Alright, I get it." Mark levels a gaze at him; he's smiling, the exact smile that Mark just professed his fondness for. "For what it's worth, I really like your smile, too."

They can't quite look each other in the eye after that.

**shorty with the brows**  
3:52 pm

what does it mean when someone says they like your smile

kinda gay innit

haha yeah

... mark

brb! got haribo gummies to stack

..........

Dejun and Yukhei invite him and Kunhang out for karaoke later that night. Neither of them have the balls to refuse, which is how they find themselves "pre-gaming" in Yukhei's car, nodding along to some bubblegum pop song that Dejun's put on.

"Why the long faces?" Yukhei asks, peering at them through the rearview mirror. "It's karaoke night, dudes!"

Kunhang whoops halfheartedly. Dejun just gives Mark a look like he _knows,_ and Mark feigns interest in the drying pigeon shit on the window.

They scrounge up enough to rent a room for two hours, chicken and beer included. Yukhei wastes no time diving for the remote, quickly punching in a song and roping Kunhang in for a duet while Mark and Dejun listlessly wave their tambourines around, and _no_ , Kunhang's voice definitely does not make him feel _things._

The room is small, cozy. A little bit romantic, even. It makes the outing feel far too much like a double date for Mark's liking, except that he and Kunhang are sitting a foot apart on the couch while Dejun is on Yukhei's lap. Almost like they're a little too conscious of each other—which is ridiculous, because Kunhang literally put his toe up Mark's nose just the other day.

It's all his fault for blabbing in front of Jaehyun. Mark should have just ran him over with the forklift.

Because they're an old, married couple at twenty-one, Dejun and Yukhei drop them off at Kunhang's apartment around ten, leaving a series of unsubtle eyebrow wiggles in their wake. They waste no time pulling up Evangelion on Netflix, because as much as the show makes Mark sad, he's dying to find some semblance of closure.

It's not that going out with Dejun and Yukhei was uncomfortable, but he feels much more at ease when they're alone, settling into their places on the couch with a bowl of popcorn between them, falling into the kind of easy banter they exchange while watching the show. A little homey, even, now that the nooks and crannies of Kunhang’s apartment are familiar to him.

Their running commentary ceases when they reach the last few episodes; the minute of silence when Unit 01 holds Kaworu in its hand proves far too much for him, and he bursts into tears when Shinji is talking to Misato at the lake.

"Why couldn't he keep the one person that loved him?" he sobs into a throw pillow, and Kunhang laughs, even though he's a bit teary-eyed himself.

They finish the show at 2 am, empty and hollow as they stare at the “Up Next” screen, so they take the most logical course of action: buy an armful of chips and a six pack of beers from the convenience store downstairs and get shitfaced.

They've been together enough that drunken conversation comes easily to them, even though it's an ungodly time in the morning and their brains are more fried than those memes Yukhei likes so much. This—getting drunk in the wee hours of the morning, cuddling up on the couch, distracting themselves from existential dread—is something he imagines he would do if Kunhang was his real boyfriend. Or, if he had a real boyfriend. Not necessarily that he wants Kunhang to be his boyfriend, but—

Mark takes another swig of Cass.

“Slow down, tiger,” Kunhang warns with a dopey grin.

“I mean— _dude,_ ” Mark whines, pushing his face closer to Kunhang’s. “How? After _that_ clusterfuck? After ev’rything turned out to be _meaningless?_ Like, where the fuck do I go from here? What am I to do with my life?”

“If you start quoting ‘Overprotected’—”

“For real!” Mark slurs. “Life has no meaning.”

“Not even when you go to med school? The whole reason we’re hanging out together?”

Mark pouts. “I mean, yeah. But _apart_ from that. What else do I have going for me?”

Kunhang frowns, shoving Mark’s shoulder a little too forcefully. “Dude, what do you mean? You literally have the highest GPA in our year.”

“I mean, I guess, but—apart from my grades.”

“Hey, you worked hard for that. It's great that you're so driven, you know?”

“To the point that I'm making you fake date me?”

“Exactly,” Kunhang agrees, with feeling. “You just… seem to have it all figured out. You know what you really want.” He takes a large sip from his own beer can. “I mean, look at me. I have my degree, and I love architecture, but I still don't know where I should go. What I should be doing. I just want to feel like I'm doing _something_ worthwhile with my life, y'know?”

“Hey!” Mark exclaims, bordering on anger. “You're a clerk at a grocery store. You're already doing something, as far as I'm concerned. Plus, you're 21, dude. By the time I'm finished with med school, you're probably gonna be a successful…” Mark gestures vaguely. “Building sketcher?”

Kunhang stares at him meaningfully. “You have no idea what my degree is for, do you?”

“No. But I know that you graduated with honors!” Mark says with his fists raised in solidarity. “And you're _way_ smart, in real life terms. If anyone can figure it out, it's you.”

Kunhang smiles, a little red around the ears. “Thanks, Mark.”

“I guess I’m kind of jealous of you, actually,” Mark confesses, staring down at the tab of his can. “You really put yourself out there in college, I feel like. All I did was study—and I don't regret studying that hard, I think. Just that I never let me enjoy myself, you know? Get around, make friends.” He grimaces. “Date.”

“I already told you that you won't die alone,” Kunhang answers knowingly. “And so what if you don't date? You're doing just fine on your own.”

“Yeah, of course,” Mark concedes. “I don't feel too bad about, y'know, the whole not dating thing. I'm just curious about what I missed out on, if the experience really is worth it. But I don't even know how to _do_ it.”

“I mean, we all have to start somewhere, right?” Kunhang shrugs. “Even if you're a late bloomer.”

Mark purses his lips, staring at the grain of Kunhang’s coffee table. “I guess, but it's just—will I even find the time? For all I know, med school will eat me up alive. I don't think I have enough in me to risk going into a relationship while I do.”

“Not even if you find someone you really like?”

Mark looks up. Kunhang is—uncharacteristically serious, completely sober in his line of questioning. It makes Mark falter a bit, unsure of how to answer, but Kunhang’s expectant gaze pushes him to speak.

“I'd have to find someone I like first for me to know the answer to that.”

Kunhang exhales. “Right. Well,” he says with a thin-lipped smile, “Whoever that is, he’s gonna be really lucky.”

“Yeah.” Mark bites at his lip. Everything’s a little fuzzy, fuzzier when he takes another sip of his beer, but one thing’s for sure: he’s not disappointed at Kunhang’s lackluster answer for the right reasons.

* * *

Mark's official medical advice: do not come into work sleep-deprived and tipsy.

He and Kunhang had fallen into bed at around 4 am, too inebriated to work out the intricacies of sharing a blanket—although waking up to an arm around his waist and Kunhang's chest pressed against his back had been plenty enough to sober Mark up. Once he had gotten over the minor panic _that_ caused him, he had shaken Kunhang awake, because God forbid his pay gets docked for being late again _._

"Rough night, boys?" Jaehyun leers at them when they shuffle into the break room.

Mark can only muster enough energy for a low groan, pushing him away with an unsteady hand. "Please fuck off."

"There's painkillers in the medicine cabinet," Jaehyun cackles, sauntering off to his seat with Mingyu. Mark is going to kill him one day.

Yukhei, bless him, has gone through the trouble of making them coffee, sliding two cups over to them at their table. "What did you guys even do last night?" he questions.

“Evangelion,” Mark answers simply.

Dejun and Yukhei nod in understanding. There’s an unspoken agreement for them to handle most of the physical labor that morning to let Kunhang and him shovel the stale bakery bagels down their throats and gulp down water, but even that does little for their twin hangovers. Kunhang looks especially rough, shuffling around like a zombie while they take inventory in the liquor section of the stock room.

“I’m not really a fan of the irony here,” Mark grumbles, scribbling on his clipboard.

“Urgh,” Kunhang answers, a hand to his head.

"Well, if it isn't my replacement!" someone crows behind them. They turn around to see Ten stepping out from behind a stack of raspberry soju.

Ten, who has been an enigma to Mark so far; all he knows about the other clerk is that he's in charge of the beer and liquor section of the store, and that he dated Kunhang for five months last year, which... okay, he doesn't know what he'll do with that information, but he makes sure to keep it at the forefront of his pea brain. Never know what the ex might pull.

Kunhang’s first smile of the day stretches across his lips. “Hey, Ten.”

Ten claps him on the back. "Hi, baby. You look like you could use a pick-me-up."

"Tell me about it. We were drinking 'til 4 am."

“Old habits die hard, eh?” Ten beams. “You know, Mark, when he got like this I just made some spicy ramen with egg. Worked like a charm.”

“I do miss that,” Kunhang concedes with a smile.

“See?” Ten says victoriously, drawing Kunhang into his side with a meaningful look at Mark.

Mark narrows his eyes. Ten is a nice guy. A _very_ nice guy, actually, enough that Kunhang has deemed him date-worthy at some point in his life. That's all fine and dandy, so why does he feel like chucking the nearest pack of Hite?

Ten continues to fuss over Kunhang, cooing at the dark circles under his eyes, pinching at his cheeks. Okay, Ten is _definitely_ doing it to get a rise out of him—which is ridiculous, because they're not really dating. But the provocation draws out its intended reaction nonetheless, Mark wrapping an arm around Kunhang to gently pry him away from Ten's hold.

"We have it covered." Kunhang looks up at him, dazed, shifting a little when Mark tugs him closer. "I'll make you ramen, Kunhang. If it'll make you feel better."

"Thank you?" Kunhang murmurs in confusion. "We're not on break—"

"I am making you ramen. With egg in it," Mark says with finality, and Kunhang understands, cheeks coloring a deep red.

"Oh. Thanks, Mark."

“Have fun, you two,” Ten quips with a greasy wink, and Mark gives him his best customer service smile before traipsing off towards the break room with Kunhang.

“Well, we’re having an early break I guess,” Kunhang sighs, but he doesn’t try to get himself out of Mark’s hold until he has to boil water. “Hey, what was that about?”

Mark purses his lips, viciously ripping open a ramen pack. “I didn't like how petty Ten was being.”

“He wasn't. You know how he likes to rile people up.”

“Still. Was he like this with your other exes?”

“No.”

“Exactly. So why is he trying to get a rise out of _me?_ ”

Kunhang sighs, opening the flavor packet with his teeth. “Beats me,” he mutters, but he's avoiding Mark's gaze.

Mark peers at him closely, tilting his head. “Wait. Are you mad at me?”

“No!” Kunhang sputters, almost dropping the little foil packet into the water. “I’m just—hungover, that’s all.”

“Okay,” Mark says doubtfully, watching the water boil in the pot. “I don’t know how to crack an egg, by the way.”

“My God, you’re useless,” Kunhang sighs, but already he looks a little more lively.

**my name jeff**  
4:02 pm

cheetah to eagle  
its a go

copy that cheetah  
t minus ten seconds

Mark smiles to himself, stealthily slipping his phone into his pocket as he watches Kunhang pull sardine cans to the front of the shelves. The bubblegum pop song playing on the speakers fades out, and then:

" _Zankoku na tenshi no you ni..._ "

Kunhang lets out an ungodly scream. This time, Mark can't hold back the laugh that bursts forth from his chest.

The other boy rounds on him, eyes wide. "This was you?"

"Duh!" Mark beams. "I wanted to see how you would react."

Kunhang cackles, taking his hands and swinging them around as they sing to the song. At some point, Dejun comes by and throws it back, making them laugh even harder.

There are tears in Kunhang's eyes when the song ends, and he's out of breath, leaning weakly against the canned goods shelf while he wipes his eyes. "Oh my God. I don't think I've had this much serotonin while working."

Mark is grinning as he watches Kunhang push out the last of his giggles. “You’re welcome.”

“Whatever,” Kunhang snipes, but he’s still smiling. “It mustn’t have been easy to get to the aux.”

“I promised Jaehyun more brownies,” Mark says breezily. “Besides, you looked like you needed the motivation.”

“Yeah, ‘Cruel Angel’s Thesis’ really hit the spot,” Kunhang replies sardonically, before breaking out into another grin. “For real, thank you.”

“No problem,” Mark beams, and for a moment, they both freeze.

Kunhang looks—he looks good, all wide smiles and flushed cheeks, his eyes shining with mirth, and Mark can’t stop staring at him. Kunhang can’t take his eyes off of Mark, either, and somehow, they’re getting closer and closer—

Just as quickly as the moment came, Kunhang looks away with a cough. Mark gets a hold of himself and steps back, ears burning. “So, uh. The sardines.”

“The sardines,” Kunhang echoes absently. "Yeah. Um, can you head back down to the stock room? We're running out."

"No problem," Mark squeaks, scurrying off even though the shelves are still full.

**tall one with the brows**  
10:48 pm

bro the trains arent running tmrw :(  
can i carpool w u and jun

sure!!  
we're bringing bella to the vet first tho

made a typo there  
can i PLEASE carpool w u and jun????

haha  
we'll pick u up around 8:30 :)

love u dude. a little bit homo

u 2 <3  
dejun says he loves u too

<3333

"Hello, baby girl," Mark coos the moment he slides into Yukhei's backseat. His hands immediately go to the beagle strapped into her little car seat, scratching behind her ear as she wiggles in excitement. "Who's a good girl! Yes, you are, Bella, you're a good girl."

"Well, good morning to you too, Mark," Dejun snorts from the front seat.

"Thanks for picking me up, dudes," Mark grins, resting his weight on top of the central console. "Hope it wasn't too much of a hassle."

Yukhei waves a hand. "Nah, you were on the way to the vet anyways. Dejun and I wanted to get Starbucks, is that cool with you?"

"I think I have some vouchers we can use," Mark ponders, digging around in his backpack.

"See, Hei? I knew Mark wasn't totally useless."

" _Dude."_

Three americanos, two tuna melts, and one vet visit later, they're rolling down the windows and letting the cool breeze whip against their faces while Yukhei hums along the song to the radio. It's not as hot today, letting them enjoy the sun as opposed to hiding from it.

"The plan seems to be going pretty well," Dejun says conversationally. Yukhei raises his brows, but otherwise doesn't say anything. "You've gotten really close."

"I mean, yeah?" Mark answers, skeptical of where this conversation is going. "We spend a lot of time together. Of course we have."

"You hang out together even when it's not part of the plan," Dejun points out.

"Kunhang is a nice guy."

"Mhm," Dejun hums, unconvinced. "You sure you two aren't already dating? You hang out at his apartment, you get off work together, you carpool sometimes…"

"Pft, no way," Mark laughs, waving a hand. "We just became close, that's all."

Dejun stares at him through the rearview mirror. Yukhei is whistling, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. "I dunno, Mark. Just be careful," Dejun warns. "Someone might get hurt."

"Don't worry, Jun. It's not like that at all."

Dejun and Yukhei exchange a _look_ that Mark decidedly doesn't like.

Apparently, showing up to work smashed beyond belief is what sealed the deal. The news trickled up from the department managers, to Johnny, then finally to Joohyun. If there were still any doubters, there aren’t any now: Kun and Taeyong from HR stop Mark in front of the break room to request a meeting when he gets off work, clapping him on the shoulder before they both head off to their little office at the back of the building.

A little stunned, Mark walks over to Kunhang at their table, who’s looking at him expectantly. “You, too?"

"Yeah," Mark breathes out. "Holy shit. We did it."

"We fucking did it," Kunhang repeats, just as dumbfounded. "We're really getting 300 thousand won."

"Oh my God," Mark's eyes widen, and he turns to Kunhang with a grin. "I can go to med school."

“You can go to med school,” Kunhang echoes, breaking out into a grin of his own. “Holy fucking shit—I’m so happy for you, dude.”

Kunhang reaches forward to hug him, and Mark’s arms come up to wrap around his back, turning his cheek into Kunhang’s shoulder as he huffs out a breathless laugh. “Thanks for your help,” he murmurs, swaying them back and forth on their feet, and Kunhang’s laugh tickles his ear. “Seriously. You saved my life.”

“No need to be dramatic,” Kunhang answers, but he reciprocates when Mark squeezes tighter.

With some hesitance, they pull away when people start trickling into the break room. By this point, it’s old news, but Jaehyun has somehow gotten wind of the HR meeting, wiggling his eyebrows as he passes by; Yerim pokes Kunhang in the ribs, crowing “Ooh, someone’s in trouble,” looking far too thrilled for Mark’s liking.

Worst of all are Dejun and Yukhei, who avoid them like the plague for the rest of the day in a thinly veiled plot to leave them alone with each other. _Fine,_ Mark thinks, let them assume whatever they want, but he isn’t budging. What do Dejun and Yukhei even want him to _do?_

He gets it, a little bit, when he and Kunhang are stacking crates of apple juice in the receiving area. Kunhang looks bummed out, a little lackluster compared to his usual bright self, and Mark nudges their shoulders together, grabbing his attention. “Why the long face, man? Missing me already?”

Kunhang huffs, rolling his eyes. “You wish.”

“There’s the Kunhang I know and love!” Mark quips. “It's not like we won't hang out after this, right? There's the rest of summer ahead, and I'll keep in touch when school starts.”

“Of course. I’ll keep in touch, too,” Kunhang promises.

Mark makes him hold out his pinky, and Kunhang rolls his eyes again, but they swear on it nonetheless. “Sorry, by the way,” Mark says sheepishly. “For having to deal with me for the summer just because I wanted some cash.”

“You were a pain in the ass, I’ll admit,” Kunhang hums, smirking when Mark shoots him the stink-eye. “But you shouldn’t be saying sorry—I really wanted to help. And I _may_ have enjoyed myself, a little bit. Enough that I'll miss this.”

Mark smiles, biting down on his lip to stifle the candor of it all. “Me, too. I'm glad this happened, and not just because of the money.” He holds two thumbs up. “You're a really awesome guy, Kunhang.”

“Stop, you're making me blush.” Kunhang’s smile is soft, fond. “You, too. You’re one of a kind, Mark Lee.”

The words hold weight in a way Mark can comprehend—that Mark has become familiar with over the past two weeks. Something that he may even reciprocate. But like the coward that he is, he shakes his head clear of fog, reaching forward to shake Kunhang’s hand.

“Job well done, partner.”

“You too, partner.”

* * *

The meeting with Kun and Taeyong goes as well as it could have, the two of them bearing down on him and Kunhang like parents scolding their children. They’re a well-oiled machine of setting workplace boundaries, Mark realizes, because they’ve already gone through this with Dejun and Yukhei and God knows who else Jaehyun is fucking.

Thankfully, they end the meeting with a promise of 150k won in each of their bank accounts, to be wired by the end of the week. It’s weird—Mark should feel relieved. Thrilled. But all he feels is a strange sense of finality when he and Kunhang walk out of the supermarket’s front doors, not meeting each other’s eyes all the while.

They come to a standstill in the parking lot. Mark wants to say something, _anything,_ but what is there to say, really? As dramatic as it sounds, it’s really over, and he and Kunhang don’t have to pretend anymore.

Kunhang coughs. “I’ll head home, I guess,” he informs Mark, gesturing to his car. “See you tomorrow?”

Mark nods awkwardly. “Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

He waits until Kunhang gets into his car before he walks away, sighing. It’s past dusk now; the road is lit only by a few yellow street lamps, casting a warm glow on the pavement. It’s as peaceful as it can get in the city, the distant sound of cars and chirping crickets the only sounds to be heard.

Except for the heavy thud of footsteps, drawing closer and closer. Mark turns around in bewilderment, watching Kunhang running towards him at full speed. “Mark, wait! _Fuck,_ ” Kunhang swears with feeling as he trips over a crack in the pavement. “Wait, stop.”

“Kunhang?” Mark frowns, hitching his backpack up higher on his shoulders. “Is there a problem?”

“Yes, there’s a fucking problem,” Kunhang pants. He rights himself and breathes in, stares at Mark with the intensity of a thousand burning suns. **“** The problem is that I like you, Mark Lee.”

What?

“What?” Mark says aloud, even though his mind is saying _of course Kunhang likes you, you fucking idiot, you’ve just been denying it to yourself and making excuses because you’re too afraid to admit that you like him, too._

“I do,” Kunhang confirms, and he’s solid and unwavering, and _God_ is he fucking attractive. “Ever since your first day at work.”

“Well, I—” Mark swallows the lump in his throat. “I like you too?”

This time Kunhang is the one to falter, clearly not expecting the answer. _“What?”_

“I mean! I always thought you were cute, but then we started fake dating and—” Mark fumbles, waving his hands around in incoherence. “You're really nice and I like being around you and I dunno, it just clicked that maybe? I might want to date you for real?”

“Maybe?”

“I want to date you for real,” Mark says firmly, because it’s true. “No maybes.”

“But I thought that med school—”

“Fuck med school,” Mark says passionately. “I mean, no, not really, but—I'll regret it forever if I don't take this chance.”

Kunhang puffs out a disbelieving breath, looking up at the sky with his hands on his hips. “Shit. It’s happening. Holy shit.”

“Um. I guess?” Mark shuffles his feet. “Can we kiss now?”

Kunhang nods seriously. “That’s definitely doable.”

They both lean in, Kunhang’s arms around his waist, Mark’s hands framing his jaw. It’s a real, proper kiss, sweeter than the first now that they're doing so with no pretenses. Everything else is peripheral, background music, out of focus, because everything _Kunhang_ is consuming him—his lips, his hands, his touch.

It’s glorious.

Mark is a little restless when they pull back for air, but he settles for pushing Kunhang’s hair away from his forehead. This brings the other boy back to reality, snapping him out of his daze. “Earth to Wong Kunhang?” he teases.

“Sorry.” Kunhang shakes his head as though to snap himself out of it. “I just—honestly. I still can't believe this is real."

Mark grins, pushing himself up to give Kunhang a slow, burning kiss. “Real enough for ya?”

“I dunno,” Kunhang says carefully. “Maybe third time’s the charm.”

“That _was_ the third time.”

“The third _real_ time?” Kunhang says hopefully, and who is Mark to resist?

They’re smiling when their lips meet, even until they pull away, giddy and more than a little kiss-drunk. Mark is well aware that they look like idiots, holding each other in the middle of the road, but he can’t bring himself to care.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he questions.

"It was like Jaehyun said,” Kunhang shrugs. “You rejected everyone that confessed to you."

"But that's because I didn't know them."

"And you think you know me?" Kunhang challenges, pulling him closer so their hips are flush against each other.

Mark hums thoughtfully, smiling when he leaves a peck on the corner of Kunhang’s mouth. "Why don't we get to know each other more, then?"

Kunhang beams. "I like the sound of that."

**grocery department clerks class of 2021**  
10:35 pm

**dejun**  
r yall together already or what

wdym

**dejun**  
so a yes

girl what??

**kunhang**  
if you mean that we’re dating for real, then yes

oh my god?

**yukhei**  
lol finally

wait what

**dejun**  
why do you think i pushed you to fake date kunhang  
mf you could have gone to seeking arrangement or smth

**yukhei**  
with that fat ass its a pity u didnt

**dejun**  
hei.

**yukhei**  
i mean

**dejun**  
no yeah i totally agree

**kunhang**  
ditto

SO THIS WAS ALL A PLOY???

**dejun**  
not really a ploy. more like a gentle nudge  
from my end, not kunhang's  
plus you got laid, so

**kunhang**  
*gonna get laid

**yukhei**  
LMFAOOOOOOO

...  
brb in 3 hrs

**dejun**  
🤮

**Author's Note:**

> (kunhang is the one who told yerim to play britney over the speakers)
> 
> thank you so much for reading! i literally took so fucking long to write this so comments would be really appreciated mwah :*
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/1999LlNE) • [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/yuchi)


End file.
